


the sweetness

by orphan_account



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Despair, yes this is canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3378458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which hinata and komaeda are cutting classes. (but hey, they're in love.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sweetness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> pleaaase forgive me if i've somehow forgotten to characterize these babies. it's been a really long time, like, it's practically been a year since i last wrote for canon komahina. i even had to look through a dialogue guide to refresh my memory a bit. 
> 
> this is also a post-valentine's gift for mooks, who you may also know as bruhkomaeda from tumblr. she is the most precious meme. happy post valentine's day bruh. i hope you'll like this.

It's their afternoon period in class and here they are, sneaking away in the music room because they _just_ can.

Hinata doesn't seem to mind, though. His eyes are restless and so are his hands, holding on the either sides of Komaeda's waist a little too hard every now and then. His breath spills on Komaeda's skin, giving him warm shivers all over. It’s July, yet it feels a lot warmer with Hinata so close to him, pulling him even closer every now and then.

A ray of sunlight glints in Hinata's amber eyes, and Komaeda is shamelessly robbed of his breath every time his own chances upon them. But he's not getting ahead of himself - his eyes are literally dreary compared to Hinata's; his eyes are a murky green-grey that easily mirrors a dirty swamp, and he doesn't want to ruin something so beautiful by comparing it to himself, who's merely trash.

Hinata's eyes are beautiful. Light. His eyes are the shade of sunsets and midsummer sunflowers and-

"We don't have time for this," Hinata says, snapping Komaeda out of his trance. Komaeda blinks and he realizes he's been shoved up against the wall and— _oh_.

Hinata's lips are slippery and demanding, but most of all firm. His teeth nibbles on a bruise he's left on Komaeda's bottom lip about two nights ago and he sucks blood like a butterfly would on a flower's nectar. Their hands entangle in the midst of punctuated kisses and bumping teeth, and as everything slides into something involving teeth marks on Komaeda's neck and whispery murmurs of Hinata's name, the build-up is abruptly cut off when Hinata pulls away, panting.

"You're silent."

Komaeda looks at Hinata through lidded eyes.

"Aha, is someone supposed to talk while they're in the middle of a kiss?"

"No," Hinata mutters. Is that ire or doubt that Komaeda hears in his voice? "You don't usually keep silent for no reason, Komaeda."

Komaeda laughs. "But that would be interrupting you, Hinata-kun. And wouldn't it be awkward too, if trash like me were to speak at such an..."

"At such a what?"

Komaeda's lips twitch up, but don't quite form into a smile. "I mean, at such an _event_. I'm not sure if anyone would try to interrupt a kiss with someone they really like."

"Hmm," Hinata drones. "I see."

It  _is_ silent between them for a moment, a class on-going upstairs the only sound intruding the quiet. Komaeda's arms are shyly twined around Hinata's waist, limply hanging like a kite. 

And suddenly their lips find each other once again, slippery and sloppy, both of them breathless as they pull away. Instead of another drawling silence, Hinata decides to pop a question disguised as a casual comment: “It’s Friday tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Komaeda beams. “And I believe Saturday comes after.”

Hinata gives him a halfhearted glare:  _Don’t play with me now; I’m trying to take you out._

Komaeda giggles, a bright, wound-red blooming on his cheeks. “You didn’t need to be so subtle, Hinata-kun. Of course I’d be flattered to go with you, but trash like me would—“

Hinata silences him with a quick peck on the lip. “Don’t.”

Komaeda looks down. Perhaps embarrassed; flattered, or ashamed. Either way, he looks up not a minute after and gives Hinata a bashful, almost hopeless smile, a wordless reply of  _you’re too nice to me, Hinata-kun_.

And Hinata’s eyes softly lid, as if he’s looking at somebody who couldn’t grasp a Math formula, a wordless response for,  _because you don’t need to deserve kindness, but everybody doesn’t know that._

The silence invades them  _again_ , but it isn’t awkward in the least— they fill it with a drawn-out kiss, packed with the sweetness of shared skin and occasionally squeezing hands. They gaze at one another’s eyes after they pull away, lingering like an aftertaste. Komaeda is incredulous really, how Hinata could stare at garbage like him and feel something other than disgust or indifference— he feels something else, something Komaeda doesn’t want to admit but gets so flustered by the thought.

“So,” Hinata murmurs, breaking the silence, still not looking away from Komaeda’s eyes. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

Komaeda tilts his head, his smile still plastered across his mouth. “Of course.”


End file.
